


when it rains

by Alltheroads



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Based on real events but inflicting it on my favorite character, Kind of personal, M/M, realistic depictions of injuries
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-08-03
Updated: 2017-09-25
Packaged: 2018-12-10 11:10:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 10,180
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11690415
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Alltheroads/pseuds/Alltheroads
Summary: Just as his summer was starting, Lance gets struck by a motorcycle. Knowing that he won't be able to walk for weeks makes him believe that it's a summer wasted. He's soon proved wrong through the love and support of his friends- and a rivalry he strikes up with some weirdo who volunteers in the local library.





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> Love to CHASE who continues to be the best person every. Love them. Appreciate them. Betas are the unsung heroes of fic.

There's nothing quite like the feeling of impending doom. Not like anxiety, where one feels like something might happen and it doesn't. No, the kind of tragedy that is only seconds away. One that allows one single thought before life takes on a new meaning. 

And Lance is at the moment, two thirds across the street, so close to catching the bus he was sure he missed, staring into the bright headlight of a vehicle. 

_I'm about to get hit by a motorcycle,_ he thinks. There's some disbelief to that statement. He's almost to the curb- but he knows it's true. It's too late. 

He feels himself being pushed a few feet by the vehicle, trying not to fall over. It's a battle he loses before he realizes he's lost it. There's something super undignified about lying there on the street. Helpless and probably broken. His foot hurts so fucking bad, but he thinks the shock of what just happened is worse. 

"Are you okay?" The man who was driving the motorcycle had gently laid his bike down and was approaching Lance slowly. 

"Yeah, yeah," Lance says. He's about to cry which makes things even worse because he hates crying. "Just- can you give me a lift?" Honestly, he's talking to any one of the three other cars that has stopped at the intersection. Being the center of attention is not always fun. Two people are on their phones already. "I can't afford an ambulance." 

Ha! AmbuLance. 

"Don't you worry about that." Someone has come to his side. An older guy. Lance can't really concentrate on any other details. His foot hurts. He just got hit by a fucking motorcycle. "Listen, I'm an off duty officer. Are you okay?" 

"I...ah-" Fuck. He's crying. God damn it. Everything about this sucks. Why did he run across the street? Yes, he missed the first bus and almost missed the second. But it's dark. He wasn't even really supposed to cross the street. But the light was green for him... Why couldn't it have stayed green. "My foot. Please, please don't call an ambulance," 

He doesn't know exactly how much they cost, but he knows enough about American health care that it will be A Lot. 

"You don't have to worry about that," the officer says again. "What's your name?"

Lance tells him. Then he asks, "Can you call my mom, please? She- she needs to know-" 

Fuck, did his phone die? He looks to his backpack which was lying on the street. Some of his things had spilled out. His phone was lying facedown on the ground. The officer picks his phone up and hands it to him. The screen is uncracked. So far, it looks like Lance is the only thing that's broken here. His shaking fingers actually manage to unlock his phone the first time around. He then goes through his contacts and finds his mom's name. 

The officer takes his phone gently before making the call. Another person kneels down next to him to talk. Lance knows that this is helping keeping him calm and shit, but these aren't the people he wants here, and this isn't what he wants to be doing. He was supposed to be on his way home so he could watch the new episode of a show he'd been excited about. 

"Hey son, help is coming," the new man says to him. Which means an ambulance. Fucking great. Lance leans his head against the road. He's told not to move too much in case something else has broken. "What's wrong, your ankle?" 

"N-no, my foot-" he hisses when he attempts to move it. Why he does this, he doesn't know. It still hurts. Jesus. Red and blue lights flash in the distance. God damn ambulance. Well, at least he won't be laying in an intersection for much longer. Which- how long has he even been lying here? Hard to tell. Suddenly, his phone is pressed to his ear. 

"Lance? Baby?" His mom sounds all shaken up. He feels guilty as hell. Just an hour before, he was on the phone with her, talking about visiting. She was tired. "Are you okay?" 

"Mom?" his voice catches. "Mom, I'm sorry-" he cries a little harder. It's humiliating. There are so many people talking. Don't they have anything better to do? 

"Don't apologize. This is not your fault," his mom reassures him. "Are they taking you to the hospital? Do you know which one?" 

Usually, if he's sick or something, he can just brush it off. His mom is a few hours away and he knows that the drive can be tiring. But he's in pain, and he just wants his mom by his side, even if it's only for a few hours. "No I- I'll text you when I get there. There's an ambulance here," and wow. He never thought he'd have to be the one being carted away. No one probably does. 

"Okay. I'll start driving. I'll be there as soon as I can. Keep your phone on you, okay? I love you, Lance." Of course she's going to hang up. She's got to drive all the way to the hospital, but Lance is reluctant to let her go. Still, he bids her goodbye as best he can. 

Then, a team of people help lift Lance onto a gurney. It's not nearly as fun as he thought it'd be. He's not sure why he thought it'd be fun at all. 

They then wrap a neck brace on him, which he immediately decides he hates. 

"Is this necessary?" He asks. 

The emergency personnel gives him a serious, but kind look. "We don't know the extent of the damage yet. Try not to move, okay?" 

The rebel in him wants to wiggle, just to shut the guy up. But he is helping him, and Lance is not THAT much of a brat. 

Which means all he can really do is look around the space he's trapped in. He’s never seen an ambulance up close before, besides peering into one when it was on campus for the kids to explore. Even then, it's hard to get a good look at anything. Between the brace, and the distracting pain emanating from his foot, he doesn't retain too much of his surroundings. 

One of the EMTs at his feet breaks out a pair of scissors and starts cutting up his pant leg. Great. This was a new pair of jeans. Priorities, yeah. But still. They really are serious about not jostling him around too much. His jeans aren't the only thing to go. They end up cutting off his pants, his jacket, and even his shirt. The exposure doesn't make him feel any better. He liked those clothes. Eventually, he's going to have to buy more. As if the cost of this ride to the hospital wasn't expensive enough already. At least they cover him up with a sort of blanket. 

The lights above him are blinding. God, he's an idiot. 

He tries to get the EMT to talk to him, but he's too focused on his task. Which, you know, he gets. It's an important job. Yet he wishes that the EMT was a chattier one. It might help take his mind off of everything. Especially when an IV gets stuck into his arm. Ow. 

When he arrives at the hospital, he wonders how long it's been since the accident. Probably not too long. The closest hospital was only about 20 minutes away from his job. They open the doors and roll him out. 

Again, he's blinded by the lights above him. He's taken into what looks like a surgery room, all white with expensive looking equipment. Instead of two EMTs, there are now about six doctors surrounding him. It's, uh, kind of overwhelming. 

They move him onto yet /another/ surface. This is fast turning into the evening he's become a ragdoll. Fun. 

While five of the doctors begin to look over his body, one tells him, "Listen, a lot of things are about to happen very quickly. Just do your best to answer the questions." 

And boy, was he asked questions. While the one thing covering his modesty was taken away (they cut off his boxers now too), each of the doctors asked him questions. When was the last time he had a tetanus shot? Where does it hurt? Here? What about here? 

A different IV was stuck into his previously un-IVed arm. The needle seemed to be thicker on this one. Lucky him!

“Ow,” he complains. “This is the worst thing to happen to me tonight!” One or two of the doctors laugh, which makes him feel better. It’s definitely a joke he’s going to be repeating. Even when he’s all broken up like this, he has time to say something funny. The fact that he isn’t crying so much anymore helps. Tears can detract from comedic genius for some reason. 

He’s covered up in about 8 different blankets and carted out of the room once more. The only part of the hospital he can see are the stupid lights. Lance is more than ready to take off the stupid neck brace. Since they haven’t taken him to get X Rayed, he’s pretty sure he’s not allowed to take it off. 

 

It's more testing for the next hour. He was given X Rays and a CAT scan. He was thankful that he wasn't claustrophobic. But when he's finally carted to his own hospital... nook, he's tired and wants to go home. 

They IVs are itchy, the neck brace is getting on his last nerve, and the pain is starting to flare up. The pain meds they've given him haven't really been doing the trick. The doctor's take a urine sample from him in the most humiliating way possible (bedpans should not exist, thank you very much) before he's finally, finally left alone. 

There is a TV that cranes down above his head so he doesn't move his neck around, but it's better than nothing. A doctor had left his phone on his bed beside him. He checks it and sees that the battery is in it's low thirties. Before he can stop himself, Lance texts a few of his friends. Unfortunately, it's almost 3 in the morning, and most of them are asleep. 

This might be the worst part of his experience so far: the loneliness. No one's there to hold his hand when doctors or nurses poke and prod at him. At least he can finally text his mom which hospital he's in. Thank god. He hopes she can get here soon. Will they let her back here, or are they gonna tell her to wait? 

Hah. As if his mom will listen to them. An image of her barging through double doors and searching through the labyrinth of this hospital just to find him. 

He flips through the channels on the small shitty TV above him and lands on a movie that he sorta kinda wanted to see years ago. It's difficult to pay attention to, but it does manage to take his mind off of what's going on enough. 

One of the nurses (he's already forgotten his name) returns with some of his results. His neck is fine and he can FINALLY remove the fucking neck brace. Hallelujah. Not only that, but he fiddles with the IV thing, and suddenly, Lance feels... kinda warm? 

"Wha's that?" He asks. 

"We're just giving you some pain meds," the nurse says easily. 

Welp. Pain meds are awesome, but he also wishes he got some warning. And /whoa/ do things get real fuzzy real fast from there. His brain feels like it was wrapped in felt. So while the pain was still there, the dullness of his thoughts made it so he didn't really care how much pain he was in. 

A woman comes in and he rolls his head to the side. He can't even tell what she's doing here. 

"Hey," he says. "Are you a doctor or, or a nurse?" 

She smiles down at him, amused. Lance can only imagine what stupid expression he has on his face, but he doesn't really give a shit. "A doctor."

"Good," he nods once. "Imma call you doctor. 'Cause, you know? People just assume girls are nurses, but they're not always. And I won't stand for that sexist nonsense-" He looks down at his foot, which has a little boot on it now. "Well. I literally can't stand for it. But! I won't meta-metaphorically stand for it either!" 

Her smile only widens. "You feeling okay?" She asks him. 

Lance nods. His head feels pretty heavy, but in a nice sort of way. It rolls against the pillow when he moves to look upwards. "Yeah. Doesn't- it doesn't hurt so bad anymore, I think," He cracks up. "You're like, really good at your job," 

"Best part of working here," the doctor tells him. 

"Wha- curing people?" He tilts his head a little. 

"Seeing 'em stoned," she smirks. Yeah, Lance likes her. So far, she's been the best conversation. Though that might be due to the grade A drugs coursing through him. Either way, he'd give her a good rating. Is there a website to rate doctors? Probably. 

"Hey," he frowns a little, looking at the curtain that serves as a bit of privacy in his little nook. "Did you, did you see my mom at all? She's 'sposed, she should be here soon." Hopefully she didn't hit traffic. Or worse, she got into an accident herself. Lance can see that happening, to be honest. Luck does not come easily to the McClain family. 

"What does she look like?" This comes from the male nurse on the other side of him. Probably checking his vitals. Or maybe to give him some more pain meds. Lance doesn't need them at the moment. 

"Like me," Lance says. "But older." 

Both the nurse and the doctor chuckle a little. He likes making people laugh. Defuses the awkwardness of the situation. Too many awkward moments tonight. So many doctors have seen his... everything. 

"I'll go check," the nurse says. 

Lance smiles, but even that feels like it takes too much energy. He hums and closes his eyes. If his mom is here, maybe that means he can go home soon. He can't imagine them keeping him overnight, especially since there's nothing wrong with his head, or his spine. Just a broken foot, and a huge scrape on his back. Road rash? Eh. 

The curtain parts and he sees his mom. Equal parts worry, determination, and relief. 

"Mom!" He says with a huge smile. Then he immediately bursts into tears. "I'm so sorry, I didn't mean to. I was stupid." 

"Oh, Lance," she says softly, then goes to his side. His mom strokes some of his hair, which he's sure is disgusting. Ugh, and he hasn't been able to wash his face. God, he must look like a mess. "It was an accident, okay? You don't have to worry. I'm here." 

Just her presence, someone familiar and good, helps him relax. It's felt like ages since he spoke to someone he loves. And while things are still up in the air, still scary and big and painful to deal with, he knows he's not alone. 

His head is still too foggy to really think about things clearly, but he hears his mom ask the doctor about what's going on with him, yadda yadda. Then he talks to his mom about something. Honestly? He can't even focus on what he's saying. 

There's a moment when he can tell that the drugs are starting to wear off. Which... y'know, it sucks. Because he's going to have to deal with this. It's become an Ordeal. Something that'll take weeks, even months before he's back to normal. So for the moment, he'll just focus on not focusing, and listen to the sound of his mom's voice while she talks to the doctors. 

About an hour later, when Lance is back to normal, the doctor (a new one) has explained to both him and his mom that yeah, he's got a broken foot. Nothing else of note. He's going to have to go see a specialist or something to take a closer look at it. After all the tests he's gone through, he can't imagine what else they need to do. It's a broken foot. Wrap it up. 

Anyway. 

He's allowed to leave once the doctor can confirm he can walk with crutches. Never before has he used them. After asking how tall he is, he's sat up. "Uh," he says. In all this excitement, he's forgotten that he's in a hospital gown. Enough people have seen his ass tonight, and he doesn't want to subject his mother to his naked backside. She's got enough on her plate. 

Thankfully, she gets the hint and waits just outside the curtain. 

The doctor helps him to his feet (foot), and hands him the crutches. It's... not easy. While he makes wobbly progress across the 5 foot by 5 foot space, he nearly tips over. Panic sweeps through him like a wildfire. But beyond that, he's got the ability to use crutches well enough to be discharged from the hospital. 

Because of hospital rules, he's being carted out in a wheelchair, for which he's grateful. Not only is he still pretty anxious about using the crutches, but he's tired, both emotionally and physically. His mom takes care of the paper work, then goes out to the car. 

Lance checks his phone. It's close to 4 am. Fuck. So it's been... 6 hours since he's been hit? And 7 hours since his life was normal. It's a total cliche. Life changing in an instant. And fuck, it could've been worse. He could've been seriously crippled, or worse. He could have died. It was such an ordinary day. Imagining his life being snuffed out... of ceasing to exist, just like that. It's terrifying. 

Before he gets lost in the black hole of what ifs, his mom is at his side again. "Let's get you home," she says comfortingly. Then, "Well, let's pick up your meds first. Then home. Hopefully there's a 24 hour pharmacy nearby. A CVS?" 

As much as Lance would appreciate some more pain meds, he's dying to get home. He wants to sleep for a thousand years, pretend that this never happened. 

He's helped into the car, after trying to use the crutches. Still little success, but he knows he'll get better. He'll have to. 

Lance can only hope that things aren't as bad as they seem. Because so far? Things are looking pretty grim.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Though the accident was over in seconds, the consequences will be felt for months- something Lance is only just discovering.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this is still super weird for me to write. i hope people enjoy this fic still.

Lance sleeps a lot the next day. He's in pain and frazzled, but at least he's at home. The drugs he's been given (and boy, did they give him drugs) have knocked him out. He can half hear his mom making phone calls in the other room, while the rest of his family is starting to stir. They didn't expect him to come home for another few weeks. Now it looks like he'll be staying for a while. 

His two cats stay close to his side while he's sleeping. While he's grateful that they're keeping him company, he's a little panicked that they're going to do something stupid. Like step on his foot. It's been less than 12 hours now since the accident, and he knows that this shit is only just beginning. The doctor at the hospital told his mom that he needs to see a podiatrist so that he can get casted. 

That is, if he doesn't need surgery first. 

He's never had surgery, so that's starting to stress him out. But percocet has his mind foggy enough to not worry too much about it at the moment. 

For a few hours, he's in and out of this half sleep state. Waking up means having to deal with things, but he wants to catch up on what's going on. Things, unfortunately, need to be done. 

First things first. He checks his phone. And whoops, he's got about 90 unread texts on his phone. He’s forgotten that he sent all those texts last night in the hospital. He scrolls through a few of them, touched that so many of his friends are worried and want to make sure he's okay. The attention is weirdly overwhelming, and he decides to answer them later. 

Except for Hunk, who sent about 20 of the 90 texts. 

To Hunk: Sorry for keeping you waiting man. I'm at home now. Alive. Stoned af. How are you?

He would stuff his phone into his pocket, but he realizes that he's still wearing the largest scrubs on the face of the earth. Lance wants to get changed into his own clothes. It'll help him feel more normal. But when he looks at his foot, he knows that a pair of jeans just isn't going to get over that. Some gym shorts will have to do. Good thing it's May.

He finds the loosest pair of shorts he can find within arm's reach. Thankfully, his mom seems to have predicted his dilemma and laid out some clothes she must have thought would be able to fit over his messed up foot. 

Lance struggles to sit upwards. The scrubs come off easily enough, but he panics when he has to move his foot, even a little. It hurts like hell. That might not be the right way to put it. It's more like he's afraid it's going to hurt like hell if he moves it a certain way. At least he has something that will help ease the pain. He grabs the shorts, a nice dark blue, and slips them on as carefully as he can. Then, he pulls on a lighter blue shirt on. At least he's matching, he thinks. 

This feels... kind of pathetic. Really, it does. He's having trouble dressing himself. And yeah, he knows that he wouldn't judge someone in a similar position. Who would? But having such a small thing taken away from him is humiliating. The worst part is knowing that this is the first of many discoveries he's going to make. 

How is he supposed to take care of himself? Keep up his skin care routine? Take a fucking shower? All at once, he feels shallow and defeated. Just because he couldn't look both ways while crossing the fucking street. 

Waiting an extra hour would have been an inconvenience, but now he's going to be like... like _this_ for weeks. Maybe months. 

It could be worse, a voice says. 

He tells that voice to shut the hell up. 

His phone buzzes beside him. He picks it up to take a quick look and smiles when he sees it's from Hunk. That didn't take long. 

Hunk: HOW AM I??? HOW AM I? HOW ARE YOU??   
Hunk: HOW DID YOU GET INTO A MOTORCYCLE ACCIDENT?   
Hunk: I AM BANNING MOTORCYCLES FROM YOUR LIFE!  
Hunk: Do you need anything? Do you need food? Can I see you?   
Hunk: Bro I was so so worried about you! You didn't text me for HOURS  
Hunk: Not that that's your fault! Oh god  
Hunk: Let me know I want to help you feel better asap!   
Hunk: You're staying with your mom, right?

Wow. Yeah. He should've expected this kind of reaction. Lance almost feels guilty. At the same time, it's nice to know that Hunk is worried about him. He kind of needs love right now. In fact, he's probably going to need a lot of love for a while. Hopefully he can find a happy medium between 'leave me alone to drown in my sorrows' and 'please give me all the attention or I shall die knowing I was unloved'. 

Could be tricky. 

To Hunk: Yeah, I'm staying with my mom at least for a few days. I've got a lot of doctor's appointments right now.   
To Hunk: You can visit but I'll probably be half asleep for the next week and a half. I'll keep you updated. Love you bro. <3

Lance slowly, slowly brings his legs over the side of the bed. He quickly realizes the problem. Last night, he barely could use the crutches. He was panicked about falling, and still fucked up from whatever the doctors gave him. Now, he's still worried about falling over. Especially since the his cats are still so pleased to see him that they'll probably be wanting to weave in between his legs. 

"Mom?" He calls out. 

Within seconds she's in his room. He gets a little choked up. She had a rough night last night. The dark circles under her eyes tell him she probably didn't even get any sleep. 

"You need help?" 

Lance nods. 

She walks over to him without saying too much. Lance figures she knows him well enough that if she tries to say something comforting, it'll only make him feel worse. At least at the current moment. She stands by him as he carefully stands up with one leg bent, and reaches for the crutches. Once they're in position, he takes a deep breath and moves forward. 

He quakes as he walks. Using his upper body to carry him forward is clearly not something he's used to. As if he needs some other part of his body to bother him. Slowly, they make their way towards the bathroom. Lance leaves the door open a crack- just in case he falls over. After that, he makes his way towards the living room. His mom helps guide him to the couch where he can actually prop his foot up pretty well. 

As he leans against the seat, his back stings. At some point, they should probably bandage the open wound. So far, it hasn't caused him too much trouble, but he has bled on his bed and his shirt is sticking to his skin. 

Without even asking, his mom sticks a pillow right under his foot. Honestly, he kind of thought that elevation was bullshit, but he does feel better now. One of his cats, Ginger, is peering up at him, then jumps up onto the chair to sit on his lap. He knows that she's going to jump on his foot, he just knows it. 

"Do you need anything else? Are you hungry?" His mom asks. 

"Not really," Lance admits. It's been hours since he ate. Maybe he'll eat something later. Probably before he has to take any more meds. Taking one on an empty stomach is bad, right? 

"Okay. The kids are all in school, but they know about what happened. Everyone knows to give you some space," His mom sighs. Then she runs a hand through his hair. "Oh sweetie," 

Lance smiles up at her so she doesn't worry so much. "Coulda been worse," He admits. "Coulda been hit by a car." 

She snorts and pushes his head gently. "You're going to be the death of me." 

"You're just trying to upstage me," He fires back. "You can't stand that I'm gonna get all the attention now," In truth, he prays that no one else has to go to the hospital any time soon. They still don't know how expensive it's going to be, and that scares him more than anything else. Thank god he's got insurance. 

But what if they don't cover everything? What if he's going to be in debt- the serious kind that will drown him, along with the rest of his family? No, he decides. No one else is going to be responsible for this. God, it was his stupid mistake that put him in this position in the first place. 

Once again, he finds himself glaring at his useless, broken foot. 

"Yes, that's right. I hope that you kill me so that I can once again be the biggest drama queen in the family," She rolls her eyes. It's nice to slip into the banter that they have. Suddenly, he can't wait until everyone else comes home. If anything, he'll have fine company. Earlier, he was just planning on coming home for a few days. Maybe there's a silver lining in all of this. "I'm going to make you something really quickly. Just in case. I still have to call your grandparents. You just know they're going to want to come here to visit," 

The McClain family is nothing if not over the top. He wouldn't mind having them over for a few hours. Though maybe without the constant fussing that they do. 

Should he call his job? He's pretty sure he sent them a text while he was still in the hospital, but they'll probably appreciate a more formal call. Last night, he told them he might need a few days. While he was clearly still in panic mode, he's off the drugs and adrenaline now, leaving only some form of logic behind. This is gonna take more than a few days. Can he get medical leave at his minimum wage paying job? 

"Hey," His mom comes back. He hadn't even noticed that she disappeared. "You're over thinking. That can't be good for you," She tells him. On the coffee table beside him, she lays a plate beside him with a freshly made sandwich on top. Looks like a BLT. It looks good. Maybe he will pick at it a little bit. Just a little. 

"Thanks," He tells her. The pain is slowly ebbing back into him. Soon enough he'll have to take another pill. Good thing there's no such thing as an opioid epidemic, right? Hah. In the texts that Hunk was sending him earlier this morning, he warned Lance to only take them if absolutely necessary. He's not paranoid about getting addicted, but he's in no mood to deal with people being paranoid for him either. Except for Hunk, of course. 

"I'm gonna go finish making those phone calls, okay? I'll be in the kitchen if you need me," Lance nods. What would he do without his mom? She walks away and he returns to scrolling through his messages. 

Texting is great and all, but he wants to hear Hunk's voice. 

Hunk answers the phone within seconds. 

"Lance, are you okay? Do you need me to come over?" 

Lance laughs a little before replying, "Nah, buddy. Just wanted to catch you up on what happened. Figured it'd be faster than texting you the whole thing," 

It actually doesn't take that long to recount the tale of The Accident, but he adds in some fun flourishes just to make Hunk laugh. 

"Oh man, I kind of wish I was there to visit you in the hospital," Hunk admits. It warms Lance's heart, but he wasn't exactly about to ask his best buddy to drive at night to a hospital three hours away. "You sound like you were really messed up. You don't remember what they gave you?" 

"No clue," Lance smiles. It's funny in retrospect how stoned he really was. Hospitals don't fuck around with the pain medication. He's grateful for that. "I think it also kind of chilled my mom out a bit. If I was hitting on the nurse, I was probably fine," He was not hitting on the nurse, but it seems like something he would do. 

"Still, I woulda visited you. Sounds terrifying, being there all by yourself for hours..." Hunk hums. "You know what? I'm gonna make you a pie. Pie makes everything better. Or would you prefer brownies?" There's another pause. "I'm just gonna make both," 

Lance laughs. "I didn't die, you know," Although almost dying seems to have it's perks. Going home, seeing his friends and family, AND getting pie? He should have broken both feet.

"Uh, dude? You were in the hospital! That warrants baked goods," Hunk sniffles a little. Jeez, he better not be crying. Lance would feel awful if that were the case. "So, did you hear from Pidge yet?" 

"No, not yet," Last night, Pidge was probably in the zone, working on building a new computer since she favorite video game series is coming out with a new entry later this summer. Her work is always impressive. And she probably didn't answer this morning because Pidge doesn't wake up until 2 in the afternoon unless she has a good reason. Or she just stayed up through the night. 

"I should call her," Hunk says, mostly to himself. "Or should I let her sleep in? What do you want to do, Lance?" 

Lance thinks about it for a moment. "Just let her sleep for a little bit. Like I said before, it's not like I died," 

Hunk makes an unhappy sound. "You can't just say things like that! It hasn't even been a full _day_!" 

Yeah, well. Humor is his coping mechanism so people better laugh it up. This is far from the end of his near death experience comedy tour. "I'm actually getting pretty tired," He admits. "I'll keep you updated, okay?" 

And with that, Lance goes back to scrolling through his Facebook feed. He makes a quick post about his accident because why not. Already pretty tired (hey, he wasn't lying to Hunk!), he reaches for the coffee table and starts to eat. He'll have to take more meds before he can even think about getting any sleep. Sleep does come pretty quickly once he's taken his meds. It'll be a while before he can have a normal sleep schedule, he realizes. 

-

Later, when he wakes up, he hears the bustling around the house. The rest of his family most have come home already. They must still think that he’s asleep on the couch, all bandaged up and knocked out from the drugs. 

But when his little sister Emma sees him and rushes to his side, that somehow opens the floodgates. There’s six people living in their small house not including himself, and all their attention is on him. At first, he’s overwhelmed. But after they move on from the accident and start talking about their lives, Lance feels better. He feels home. 

It’s only for a little while. An hour at most. That’s when the pain gets to be too much. His mom, his uncle, his cousin, and his three siblings all offer him different things to try and make him more comfortable. All he wants is to sleep, to drift into the haze that’ll take him away from this reality for a little bit. However, he knows that when he wakes up, they’ll still be there to help him. His family is ever willing as well as ever loving. 

-

Within two days, Pidge and Hunk come to visit him. He's so happy to see them. As much as he loves his family, they've been kind of overbearing. Yeah, he knows that he's going to need help in these next few weeks, but he wishes they knew that he's not a total invalid. He's capable of some things. Sometimes. 

These things do not include showers, getting food for himself, going up or down the stairs, shopping, riding in a car for long periods of time, or staying awake. But he likes to think he can at least wash the dishes after he's done eating. Like, he gets it, he gets that people want to help him through this. The longer he's living this, the less human he feels, so he needs the small moments of self reliance. It charges a battery he didn't know needed tending to. 

With his friends here, the energy starts to flow back into him. Not only that, but it's been nearly a year since he last saw them. He went to an out of state school to pursue a major in... something. Lance hasn't declared a major yet. Now that he's going into his sophomore year, he knows that his time is slowly running out. He dreads the deadline that is creeping up on him. Since he's at home, he has a lot of time to think about all important adult decisions coming his way. 

Seriously, bless Pidge and Hunk. He needs this. 

"Holy shit," Pidge says when she first sees him. His foot is in a splint- all the way up to his knee. The podiatrist took xrays of his foot. All that's left is finding out if he needs surgery. Then it's 6-8 weeks of being in a cast. Fun! "You really did get into an accident," Right after saying this, she crosses the space between them to give him a bear hug. Next to Hunk, people don’t think Pidge can give a good hug. It’s a secret talent of hers, and one she’s only willing to share with those she calls family. 

"I can't believe you didn't call," Pidge says. Her voice is muffled against his shoulder.

"Yeah, well. I was only in the hospital for a few hours," Lance counters. 3 or 4. It's kind of hard to tell. "Plus, I wasn't exactly looking my best. One motorcycle can really mess you," 

"Lance," Hunk groans. "Didn't I tell you not to joke about this stuff for at least a month?" But he joins Pidge in a tight bear hug. 

Lance's back stings, and he can't move too much, but he decides to lose himself in the sensation for just another minute. "Hey, it's my near death experience, I'll joke about it if and when I want to." 

Pidge smacks him upside the head as she pulls away from him. At least she doesn't look like she's about to cry. He's seen enough tears recently. "No more playing in traffic, asshole! I would've been so pissed if you died before I got to see you again," She huffs. "Y'know what, I'm already pissed!" 

"I'm not pissed, but I really woulda been upset too," Hunk, on the other hand, is looking teary. "And like, I know that you couldn't help it since you were on pain killers and stuff, but please call me next time you're in the hospital? Or try not to go to a hospital any time soon?" 

Lance smiles in agreement. He doesn't want to make his friends worry. They deserve to worry without Lance making some smartass comment- for now. "Alright. Point taken. No more dramatic trips to the hospital in the middle of the night without calling you guys. Can we watch a movie now, please?" 

They relent and start scrolling through Netflix. Instead of watching something new, they decide on some terrible movie they've seen a million times and crack jokes throughout the entire thing. Slowly, but surely, it starts to feel like old times.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i think we'll be catching a glimpse of a few new characters next chapter. also since in the red is done, you probably won't have to wait a month for the next one! i should... work on metamorphosis though. whoops. 
> 
> thanks for all the love and support! i read all the comments and smile when i get kudos. 
> 
> make sure to follow me on tumblr under the name miraculance. <3


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Time seems to slow down around Lance, while everyone keeps moving forward. He needs to find something new to do.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Love to Chase/Aggpo who, although did not beta my work was in an accident of her own today :( She's okay, but her car got messed up. Send love to her on tumblr if you can!

It's long, nerve wracking week. He's checked his facebook post and people have been sending many get well messages since he's done so. It's great to have everyone care for him, but it has been driving him absolutely crazy that they've all been asking him if they know if he's getting surgery. 

The only reason Lance has been getting sleep is because of the percs. With each passing day, he doesn't need them as much. It's only been a week, but still. Any improvement is something to be grateful for. What's weird is that his back is starting to hurt more and more. The skin isn't scabbing up. It's left exposed to the elements. Every morning when he wakes up, he finds spots of blood on the sheets. Still, his shirt sticks to him. That's part of the problem. But since he needs to sit up with his foot elevated, it's hard to find a position to heal both his foot and his back. 

While waiting for the doctor to look over his x ray, the nurse comes in. She noticed his back the last time and asked to take a closer look at it. She lets out a sigh when she sees it. 

"That... looks like it could be in danger of getting infected," She tells him. 

Lance blinks. Childishly, he thinks that it's not fair. It's not fucking fair. He's broken his leg, isn't that enough? But it's not. And he pushes the feeling down. Pushes it down so that he can focus on getting better. "Okay... so what should I do?" 

His mother got up from the chair that was against the wall, and crosses the room to get a better look at his back. This is not the first time she's taken a peek- it's worried her. But since he has broken bones, the skin on his back has gone mostly unnoticed besides a few offhand comments about how it's stings like hell. 

"Clean it out, definitely. Don't expose it too much. Do you have animals at home?" The nurse plucks at his shirt, pulling away some cat hair. 

Ugh, why didn't he think of that before? He nods shamefully. "Uh, yeah, I do,"

"What should we cover it up with? The wound is nearly his entire lower back," His mother says. Her phone is back in her pocket, and her arms are crossed. Leave it to her to take charge. "And how should we clean it? With Neosporin?" 

The nurse nods. "Yes. I think we've got some spare bandages here as well... I'll get a few so you can see what you're looking for. And we can also cover that up before you guys leave." 

“Thank you,” His mom tells the nurse, and he echoes her. At least now they know that it’s something to look out for. Now, he can clean it out. Plus, the part where it’s slightly infected will probably go away.

But knowing all this doesn't make it any less painful. The pain medication that was meant for his broken foot is now tending to his broken skin. He's scared that it's going to scar his entire lower back. He's scared that he'll walk with a limp for the rest of his life. 

The nurse leaves the room to go find some bandages, as well as the doctor. 

And now he’s left here, sitting here in the doctor's office with a week old splint, all those fears are amplified. His mother goes back to the chair across from him. 

"You know what? I'm going to make your favorite tonight," She tells him. "It'll either be a 'sorry you're getting surgery' or a 'it's great that you don't have to have surgery' meal!" 

Lance cracks a smile. 

But while they're waiting, it's strangely hard to come up with some small talk. All that's on his mind is whether or not he's going to have surgery. His mother was frank with him when she told him if he did need it, the levels of pain he's experienced will be like the very first day. Square one. So no one can really blame him if he doesn't want to y'know, go through all that nonsense again. 

Deep breaths, he tells himself. His mom is back on her phone, so he scrolls through his own newsfeed. Turns out, not even that can hold his attention for very long. When is this doctor going to get here? He stares down at his foot again. Stupid thing. Not for the first time, he thinks about the accident. How stupid he was. How unnecessary all of this is. 

It's just so... ugh. If only. If only if only. But while that phrase keeps going through his mind, the rest of his family likes to repeat something else, and something equally as frustrating: It could've been worse. 

And yes, he knows that. Don't they think he knows that? That even though he got as lucky as someone who got hit by a motorcycle can possibly be, he still feels like this is a mess, his own fault? That he's probably acting like a burden when this all could've been avoided? Lance even knows that he's being kind of unfair to himself. He knows that it was an accident, pure and simple. These things happen, and it just turns out that he pulled the short straw on this one. 

He rubs his eyes. This isn't helping him. Why is it so easy to spiral out of control? Fuck. 

Just then, the nurse walks in. From her expression, Lance can't quite tell if it's good or bad news. 

"So… you don't need surgery!" The nurse tells him. She smiles wide. "I figured I should tell you before you lost your mind," She says lightly. 

The weight that lifts off of him is... honestly, it's amazing. The dark thoughts that were plaguing him are not dripping away. So yeah, his foot is still broken, but at least he's made some progress!

"Yeah, that's... that's good news!" Lance replies. "So does that mean I just get the cast?" 

"Yup," The nurse replies. She turns, looking through the drawers behind her, already getting some equipment to wrap him up. "Do you have a color preference?" 

Lance probably shouldn't be as excited as he is to hear that there is a choice in color. "Do you have blue?" He asks. "Wait, how many colors do you guys have?" 

"Just 12," The nurse goes into a closet that was right behind the examination chair. He cranes his neck to try and see into the storeroom. "But for the more annoying patients, just three. White, gray, and black," She comes back out with a small box. “Lucky for you, we do indeed have blue.”

Lance laughs. He's dealt with awful, cranky, and rude people before, so he gets why the nurses might want to do something like that. He's also pretty happy to know that he hasn't been that annoying lately. A wonderful surprise. 

It doesn't take too long after that. He's wrapped up tightly in a five pound cast that covers most of his toes to just under his knee. It's like a really shitty boot. However, now he doesn't have to worry too much about Blue and Indiana stepping on him. Or worse, his sister dropping his crutches on him. Again. 

Though he was getting better at using the crutches, he feels like he's taken a step backwards. The extra weight on his foot does make it a little more difficult, but he quickly gets used to it. He's kinda happy that his mom got a wheelchair, though, as walking for more than a couple hundred feet does tend to wipe him out. 

His mom pays the copay, and then they're on their way. Lance won't have to come see a doctor for another six weeks. Six long weeks of a stuffy cast. He's still not allowed to shower, or put any weight on his foot. But he's a little safer. He pulls out his phone to text both Pidge and Hunk the news. All week they had been asking about surgery. 

He's glad that they care enough about him to ask, but to be honest it was getting sort of annoying to say 'I won't find out until Thursday' a million times over. Still, he kept his mouth shut. Don't look a caring horse in the mouth. Or something. 

Both Pidge and Hunk text him within seconds. Hunk says that he's relieved while Pidge playfully tells him she's disappointed. 

Pidge: Aaaaw, you mean I won't get to see you all doped up?   
Pidge: At least I won't have to see you look off into the distance  
Pidge: "Nothing has been the same since..."  
Pidge: "...The surgery." 

To be fair, it's absolutely what he would do. It'd just be a wasted opportunity if he didn't. Surely everyone would understand. 

To Pidge: So glad to know you care :,)   
To Pidge: Though nothing has been the same since....  
To Pidge: The Accident

He smiles down at the screen proudly. 

Pidge: FUCK OFF

Lance laughs loudly. He's wheeled to the entrance of the hospital before he's back on his crutches again. Over the past few days, he's really developed a weird relationship with them. He needs them to move around, so he panics when they're not close by. But good god does he hate them. Putting them out of the way is hard enough, and someone is always moving them a few feet away when they sit close to him. It's annoying, even if they aren't thinking about it. Just six more weeks of these stupid things, and he'll be free of them (hopefully) forever. 

After he he situates himself in the front seat, his mom shoves the crutches in the back seat. His cast is heavy, and his foot is kind of numb. Six weeks in this thing is going to be so much fun. 

His mom pats his leg before starting the car. 

"So, a celebration is in order," She tells him, smiling. 

He smiles back. That's right. He's got a good dinner to look forward to tonight. Again, he reminds himself not to get so caught up in his thoughts. 

Things could've been worse, he tells himself. They could have been much worse. 

-

One thing Lance did not count on was how boring things would get once things settled down. Sure, his family tried to keep him company, and his friends tried to visit- but while Lance was indeed granted leave of absence at his job, everyone else had to go back to work. 

His mom, thankfully, works at home, but it's not like he can just bother her the whole time. Playing video games all day, or marathoning a TV show he meant to catch up on works for a few days, but Lance thrives on going out, going on adventures. When he had a job, when he was at school... those distracted him. Now, he doesn't have that. 

He needs to do something about this. Maybe he can ask to go to the mall with his friends this weekend? Lance is sure that they have wheelchairs he can rent while they're there, but... well there's not much to do there except buy shit. His medical leave does not provide pay. So, maybe not. 

Staying in his house another day is going to drive him absolutely crazy. He needs to go _somewhere_ different. Even if it's just to sit around. A change of scenery is important. 

Lance hobbles into the kitchen trying to figure out how to solve this problem without being a bother to anyone else. While picking at leftover pizza, he notices an old flier on the kitchen counter. It's from the local library. They were doing some sort of book drive. While the book drive is long past, he does think that maybe he's onto something. 

He hasn't been to the library in a really long time, but he remembers that there are these big cozy chairs there a with little tables nearby. In the back of the library is a tiny coffee shop. It's not much, but it's something. 

Lance could maybe bring his laptop there and chill out. Maybe he could watch netflix, or surf the net, or even just read some books. The point is, he wouldn't be stuck at home the whole time. Anything is better than staying here all the time while waiting for his siblings to come home from school, or hoping that Hunk and Pidge are off for the day. 

Already, he knows that it's a temporary solution. Libraries are by nature quiet places, whereas Lance is as loud as they come. He's not going to last more than a week or so of chilling in the library, but it's one more week he won't have to deal with cabin fever. Not only that, but he can probably do some research on what else he can do during this time of healing. 

He resolves to ask his mom later, probably right before everyone else gets home. 

-

Sleeping has become interesting. And kind of painful. If it wasn't for the drugs, Lance wouldn't be getting much sleep. The problem is, Lance doesn't need the percs so much anymore. He doesn't want to take them unless he absolutely needs them. If he's only using them to get sleep, well then. That's probably part of why the US has an opioid problem. 

So he's left with trying to put his 5 pound cast in an upright position while also not leaning on his back. He tries to take melatonin instead. Weird how quickly people can start to rely on medication. Lance prays that this doesn't become yet another issue to worry about. His mom keeps telling him not to worry. She'll tell him if he's abusing the power of medication. It's been a little over the week since his accident, she reminds him. He's allowed to use medicine to recover. 

Fair enough, he guesses. The thoughts still creep in from time to time. When there's not much else to do, shit like that tends to happen. 

It only gets worse when his back gets worse. No, it’s not infected, but shit… the open wound is starting to take it’s toll. His mom did bandage it up after disinfecting him- it was embarrassing as hell. With the wound being so far down on his lower back, it’s like she’s wiping his ass. He’s turning 18 this year- it’s getting ridiculous. 

His skin. The thing he works so hard to take care of, and it can’t even scab up. And bathing, the thing he loves to do has become a fucking chore. It’s difficult to really take care of himself. He’s complained about this all before, but honestly… it feels like time is creeping forward slower than ever. 

Lance needs an out. 

-

Bless his mom. She said that she'll take him to the library. Unlike the mall, there's no wheelchair rental service. So he'll have to make due with his (stupid, god damn) crutches. He'll manage if it means getting the hell out, though. 

So his mom stands beside him the entire time he makes his way up the wheelchair ramp. Stairs are something he's yet to master with his crutches, so he's definitely going to take the long way. She hasn't complained, but Lance can't help but do just that. Being this slow is killing him. 

Like, he never thought about what it would be like to be this slow. How much he took walking for granted. Obviously he thinks that the world should be more accessible to people who are disabled- but he never really realized how inaccessible it is until he couldn't walk up three steps. Is it really fair for him to complain, when it's only a few weeks? He wonders if there's anything he can do for the community. Like, for real. He doesn't want to experience all this and forget about it once the cast comes off. 

There's got to be something that he can do. 

His mom rolls her eyes before patting him on the shoulder. "Your phone is charged?" 

"Yes, _mom_ ," He tells her. There's even a spare battery in his bookbag. Lance started carrying one around so that no one else in his family had to go back and forth just because he forgot something in another room. (He's also thought long and hard about if there's a way to make crutches with cup holders. Genius idea? It's probably too advanced for the rest of the world.) "Go, I'll be fine, alright?" 

Once again, she sighs. But she does relent, and leaves him alone in the library. 

Lance looks around the building from his comfy chair. His crutches lay by his side in case he wants to wander up and down the shelves. It really is pretty quiet in here, though there is enough white noise so that he doesn't feel entirely alone. 

He sighs. He drums his fingers against the armrests. He slides down further into the seat.

Okay, so this was a lot more boring than he thought it was going to be. What did he think was going to happen? This isn't some magical fix. His foot is still broken and he still can't go out and do anything fun. Lance just has to accept his fate. The next few weeks are going to be boring as hell. 

Lance digs his phone out of his pocket to check the time. Well, it's been three minutes. Instead of reading, he finds himself switching back and forth between a few apps. It's keeping him mildly entertained. Then, he notices that his battery is swiftly draining. The games he has on his phone are fun enough, but they do tend to drain. And he does have a bad habit of forgetting to close the apps when he's done with them. 

Out of the corner of his eye, he notices a guy around his age shuffling through a stack of books. Dark hair hides most of his face, but Lance can tell from here who it is. 

It's god damn Keith Kogane. Mr. Valedictorian. The one who refused to make a speech at their graduation. The ceremony people wait all their lives for, and he blew it off. 

Lance remembers hating him, remembers wanting to surpass this asshole. Despite his attitude, the teachers at their high school loved him. His math and science grades were always through the roof. Though Lance did hear a rumor once that Keith needed a tutor for English, one of Lance's best subjects. 

He skipped a grade, too. One year younger than Lance. How he convinced an entire school he was the greatest thing to walk through the grimy halls, he doesn't know. But Lance can see right through that guy. He's stuck up and thinks he's better than everyone else. 

It’s weird seeing him now and he can’t help but wonder what he's doing here, of all places. Last he heard of Keith Kogane, he transferred to a school on the other side of the country. Beyond that, Lance doesn't know what he studied, or even where on the west coast. Not that he's looked. Well, he didn't look hard. 

Lance imagined that Keith was doing great in school, while Lance... well, he struggled. Working and going to school at the same time was a lot harder than he ever imagined it would be. At the end of every day, he was exhausted. Keeping up with homework was something that was important to him at first, but rapidly fell behind. His attendance slipped when he thought he could afford it. At the end of the semester he was starting to question whether or not he even liked going to school.

Anger rushes back when he thinks about his time at university. He wants to argue that he tried his best but he’s not so sure. Keith probably did great. Wonder boy could probably juggle two jobs and go to school full time. The smug prick. 

Lance forces himself to look back down at his phone. Fuck Keith. He doesn't care. Keith and him have gone separate ways in life, and it's better that way. Once Lance is healed up and back at school, he won't have to look at Keith ever again. 

He looks back up at Keith. His hand is curled under his chin, supporting his head. He turns a page. 

What is he reading about? 

Something snobby, he's sure. 

Or boring. 

Or both. 

But Lance doesn't care SO. 

Once again, Lance puts all his effort into looking down at his phone. 

It doesn't work out as well as he thought it would. Luckily, he notices that Keith keeps checking something on his own phone. Waiting for a call maybe? Within a few minutes, Keith is picking up all the books at the table, and moving on to another part of the library. 

Lance slips further into his chair with a sigh. Now he can finally relax. Keith is out of sight, out of mind. He's not sure why he gets to worked up when it comes to that guy. 

Without really meaning to, he goes on facebook, and starts to search for Keith's profile. Turns out, he doesn't really have one. Lance does what any sane person would do, and combs through other popular social media websites, looking for any trace of Keith Kogane. 

Either he's under a different name, or he doesn't really use social media. Not surprising at all. He probably thinks he's too good for it. 

Okay NOW he's done with Keith for the day. If Hunk were here, he'd tell Lance to move on. Hunk is always right. Though Hunk is a bigger gossip than Lance will ever be, it really is better to leave well enough alone. It's not like Lance ants Keith back in his life.

In fact, he goes through his contacts to send Hunk some text messages. Hunk probably has a day off sometime soon, and Lance is desperate to do something fun. The library has been... distracting, definitely. He’ll need to find something to actually do here before he can really say that this idea was successful. But as always, Lance will figure out exactly what he needs to do. If anything, he’s adaptable.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for all the love and support you guys. It really means a lot <3 Follow me on tumblr @miraculance if you want occasional updates/drabbles.

**Author's Note:**

> So, those of you who have read In the Red or Metamorphosis know that I was in an accident in May. Pretty much everything that happens in chapter one is what happened that night. But it's going to diverge into it's own story, don't worry. It's weird posting something this personal, but I guess I wanted to put those complicated feelings somewhere. I hope you guys don't mind. Unfortunately, Keith won't appear for at least a chapter or two, but I promise it'll be worth it. <3 
> 
> Thanks for joining me on this ride, and letting me use this as a gratuitious opportunity to not only write a new story, but to talk about some shit I went through.
> 
> Oh also follow me on tumblr. I am miraculance.


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